


If It's Not Us, It's Me

by poetsandzombies



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Assassin's Creed, low key pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 23:18:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6304108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poetsandzombies/pseuds/poetsandzombies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altaïr struggles with conflicting feelings about Malik and the Brotherhood</p>
            </blockquote>





	If It's Not Us, It's Me

“Altaïr, please. Is this a game to you?” Malik is frowning at him, brows furrowed angrily. Altaïr sighs, frustrated, and turns to face the other man, searching for the right words in his eyes.

“I am not that man anymore. You know this,”

“I thought I did,” Malik starts, “but then, what is it? Why would you run this suicide mission alone? Is it… do you not think I’m capable?” He gestures vaguely, then shrugs the shoulder where his arm is missing, looking pained to do so.

Altaïr grimaces at the reminder, feels the way guilt pools in the pit of his stomach. He wonders absently if he’ll ever be able to forgive himself, the way Malik did. 

“No,” he says quickly, shaking away the memory. “Of course not, I-” he stops, takes a deep breath before his words start slipping.

He would have thought that Malik would have lost patience with him by now, but instead he reaches out and rests a hand on his shoulder. His thumb brushes over Altaïr’s collar bone and suddenly his thoughts start spinning again. _When did things start spiraling so far out of his control?_

Malik knows now. There’s no doubt he can feel the way Altaïr’s heart is racing, see the hesitance on his face and by the look on Malik’s, he’s worried.

“What are you so scared of?” He asks.

“Malik, please-”

“Tell me,” Malik insists, and Altaïr is defeated. He sighs, barely able to look him in the eye.

“When I’m gone, you get to go home. Move on, rebuild. _You_ die, and I’m lost. I don’t know where home is for me, but after all that has happened, it can’t be the Brotherhood. I have little faith in much else anymore.” He says. It’s quiet for a minute.

“But in me?” Malik asks eventually, voice soft. Altaïr hangs his head miserably and nods.

“The one man who stood up to me while everyone else let me run around like a child. I could not stand here right now, facing this, without you. I am not sure if I ever could again.”

Malik’s chest rises, taking a deep breath as he seems to consider this, before nodding. His grip on Altaïr tightens, and the way he lets his fingers slip off his shoulder is too intimate to question.

“We fight. We win. We _both_ go home, and we talk about this then. Okay?” There was no room for argument, but Altaïr gives him one last desperate, pleading look before giving in.

“Okay.” He agrees.


End file.
